Shale
by fewthistle
Summary: *Implied F/F Slash* T'Pol tries to regain her equilibrium after her encounter with Hoshi on the Klingon ship. *Spoilers for


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Shale

By Fewthistle

Standard Disclaimer: The ship, the characters, and the stars, in fact everything but the inviolability of the heart, all belong to Paramount/Viacom. The characters were used solely for the amusement of the author. No profit was made, no disrespect was intended. This story is the property of the author. Please do not archive without permission.

Pairing: T'Pol/Hoshi

Rating: PG. 

Summary: T'Pol attempts to regain her equilibrium after her encounter with Hoshi on the Klingon ship.

Spoilers: Various episodes, although very vaguely. Mostly just "Sleeping Dogs".

Special thanks to Loretta for indulging me. Btw, clearly it is a bit early in this series to start creating meaningful story lines. For one, we know little about the characters, and two, things are bound to be undone by TPTB soon enough. So, this is simply my own personal indulgence and should not be taken as being altogether accurate.

If the concept of two women in love disturbs you, or if you are not tall enough for this ride, then do have a lovely time somewhere else.

Comments and kind words may be sent to: **mailto:fewthistle@aol.com**

The candle flame dipped and swayed to a melody without sound, a solitary dancer to an unnamed tune, as outside of the ship's small viewports, other, far more distant points of light sped past, their own dance unseen and unremarked by the inhabitant of the dimly lit cabin. She sat unmoving before the flickering light, legs crossed, spine straight, her dark eyes as unfathomable as the black depths of space through which the small white ship sailed, the golden glimmer of the flame a single star against the obsidian of pupil and the rich brown and green of iris.

The deftly sculpted face held no hint of expression as she gazed at the focal point of light. Only the slight tension in her shoulders and the occasional expansion of her pupils, unaffected by the candle flame, gave evidence of a less than ordered mind. 

Try as she would, the sights, and smells of the Klingon ship she had so recently visited refused to leave her consciousness, compelled to tarry by that most horrific of all accomplices, lingering traces of emotion, annoyingly tender, infuriatingly tempting vestiges of compassion, of empathy, of longing, and desire. Try as she might, she could not banish them from her mind, their voices the barest of whispers, flimsy phantoms that slipped unbidden, ungovernable, and seemingly irrepressible through the solid stones of high citadel walls, walls that contained and bridled the emotions that had once been her people's undoing. 

She had known that coming aboard Enterprise would be a challenge to her will. Living among these humans was akin to weathering a storm, constant and unrelenting, their emotions like pellets of rain, beating hard and furious against the mental constraints she had spent a lifetime constructing. She had not imagined it would be so difficult. Foolish of her to think that she would be able to shut herself off completely. Foolish and perhaps even arrogant, something of which she was quite used to being accused. 

Alone really, unaided and increasingly threatened by the more savage, violent races that every day seemed to be making their way out into the stars, her people had done what was necessary to survive. They did not preach, did not proselytize , did not attempt to convert the humans to the path of logic. If the humans choose to see the buried sorrow of her people at the inability of the humans to follow the correct path as condescension or judgment, there was little her people could do but remain patient and continue to guide their young allies in the ways of an unforgiving universe.

Her interactions with the humans had been, at times, unpleasant, as the clash between cultures and belief systems often were. However, it had never been arrogance on her part, merely a necessary belief in the tenets of her culture, in herself, an assurance founded on logic and attested to by years of experience. Without it, without that absolute conviction, her people would have faltered, perhaps even failed, all these centuries. She would have faltered, as it appeared she had now.

She must find a way to reinforce her own mental discipline. The footsteps along the path of logic were there in front of her, as they had always been. She had only to follow them. Shutting out most of the external influences had been difficult, but manageable. It was finding a way to smother the meager embers of emotion that had been stoked by her encounter with Hoshi aboard the Klingon vessel that was proving the more arduous task.

Even now, she was uncertain what had led her to follow the Ensign to the galley of the alien ship. She could have easily sent Mr. Reed to safeguard the young linguist. It had been pure instinct to accompany her, a sudden and not altogether explicable need to protect the younger woman. Understandable perhaps, given Hoshi's past experiences with away missions, but what had followed had had less to do with prudence than a desire on her part to ease Hoshi's anxiety. 

"Take my hand," she had said, her mind registering slight surprise at the look of suspicion that had passed across Hoshi's face.

Sinking to her knees amid the filth and stench of the Klingon galley, she had taken Hoshi's hand in her own, cradling the slender appendage between her own hands, the skin warm and soft beneath her fingers. The look of distrust was still there in the eyes of jet black that stared down at her. She realized that it was simply the instinctive reaction of any species to aberrant behavior. Kindness was not usually considered a typical Vulcan trait, and so the young Ensign found herself curious and not a little suspicious of this unexpected action, of the soft, almost tender tone of T'Pol's voice, and the gentle feel of T'Pol's fingers against the skin of her own hand.

"Close your eyes," she had commanded, the softness of her voice altering the order to a request.

In tempered tones she had formed an image in Hoshi's mind, an image she challenged her to control. She could sense Hoshi's hesitation, cataloging the stream of emotions that flowed from the human's mind into her own. Fear, anxiety, distrust, determination, curiosity, even attraction, all rose and fell, the rough waves on the sea that she had assured Hoshi she could calm. Slowly, the waves relented, giving way to an inner strength that T'Pol knew the younger woman was not even aware she possessed. As surprised as she was by Hoshi's abilities, she found herself all the more surprised by her own reactions, as flickers of longing and desire leapt unbidden inside her own mind.

It had been so long since she had been touched, and the feel of warm skin against her own had awakened needs that she had thought sufficiently interred. Awakened emotions that she had spent so many years denying. 

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"I do not require companionship. I do not require friendship. I will not be governed by emotion. I will govern it. My intent was merely to teach, to share knowledge. Anything more is impossible, anything more is unthinkable."

She had been repeating this same mantra over and over for several hours now. The meditation that had always served to contain the feelings that lived under the surface of every Vulcan mind had failed her tonight, however. Despite the rigors of her mental training, the sensation of soft skin and the depths of depthless eyes forced their way, uninvited and unwelcome, past the once sturdy walls of T'Pol's consciousness. With them came an unmistakable sensation of attraction and desire.

She had thought to create stalwart barriers, impregnable slabs of rock, formed from logic and discipline. Now, here alone among these humans, she found instead that at least some of those walls were made of shale. She had found such rocks on Earth, in the garden of the Vulcan compound. At first glance the pieces of stone had appeared solid. On closer inspection, however, she found the layers of rock peeled away if attacked at just the right spot, and that the entire stone could be shattered to splinters if the correct amount of pressure was applied. 

Her mind registered the irony of her own point of weakness. She had stood up to Archer on innumerable occasions, defied the High Command, albeit more by omission than actual acts of defiance. She had even gone against the strictures and expectations of her family and society to remain here with these humans, to help and guide them, to save them from themselves. Throughout all of that, she had remained in control, never giving in to the heat of the moment, never relinquishing her own inner equanimity to the often compelling onslaught of emotion from her shipmates. 

Now, to be brought to this humiliating state by the most innocuous of opponents, made her realize that she had made the fatal error of underestimating her adversary. She had focused so much on what she perceived to be the stronger threats to her control, the often infuriating actions of the Captain, the mistrustful antagonism of Commander Tucker, even the sometimes incomprehensible dictates of her superiors, that she had allowed a greater threat under her sensors.

A threat who, in just moments, would be standing at her door, ready to receive her next lesson in mastering emotion. A lesson that T'Pol was uncertain she was fully equipped to administer. A lesson that she feared greatly would slice away another layer of shale. Her only hope was to inform Ensign Sato that she would be unable to continue with her instruction. Unasked, the awareness that she wanted to continue to teach Hoshi, that she wanted to spend more time with the young linguist stood out starkly in her mind. 

A year ago, she would merely have pushed aside the thought as frivolous, secure in the knowledge that her wants and desires were unimportant in the grander scheme of things. Yet, she had broken a marriage contract, gone against her family's wishes because she desired to remain on Enterprise. Suddenly, the concept of giving in to her own desires did not seem so foreign.

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"It is merely a normal, physiological response. Hormones, pheromones, nothing more. I can control it. I will not be governed by emotion. I will share my knowledge with one in need of emotional restraint. Logic will dictate my actions."

Focusing on the still flickering light of the single candle, she catechized herself again and again, determined to smother, once and for all, the small, persistent glow of emotion that had been brought into being at the touch of Hoshi's hand in hers. The very hand that even now rose to press the chime outside of her quarters, as Hoshi stood and waited for permission to enter.

"Enter," she said quietly, drawing in a deep breath.

As the door slid open with a muted whoosh, a current of air caught the flame of the candle, twirling it in a new dance that shimmered against the darkness of her eyes. Without speaking, Hoshi stepped into the room, crossing to where T'Pol sat motionless. Sinking gracefully to her knees in front of the Vulcan, Hoshi simply reached out her hand and grasped one of T'Pol's where it rested limply on her thigh. Her gaze locked with T'Pol's, Hoshi gently cradled the hand and murmured softly.

"Teach me."

Words to shatter shale.

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The End


End file.
